


The Ultimate Defense

by Alenna1992



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Asexuality, BAMF Sherlock, Bisexuality, Case Fic, F/M, Gen, Homosexuality, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sherlock's darkest secret, Soldiers, frank discussions of sex, references to rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-28 03:05:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13894905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alenna1992/pseuds/Alenna1992
Summary: When Sherlock is 12 the worst, most unimaginable thing happens to his twin sister. Ever since he has struggled to hide his darkest secret from the world.





	The Ultimate Defense

Sherlock has to hand it to him. This is a new record.

From the time it takes after he gets the text from Lestrade telling him the inspector is on his way from the station to pick him up and Sherlock walking away from the window where he’d been playing all morning, to putting away his violin, going into his room to switch out his posh jacket for an even tighter, posher one, primping himself in the mirror once, and walking back into the living room, in that short amount of time, his brother has managed to arrive.

The heavy-set 33 year old stands by the door, face placid, leaning slightly against his umbrella. That he’s not sitting or making himself more at home in Sherlock’s apartment is a sign he’s especially perturbed.

_Good._

“Oh, here to see me off brother?” Sherlock asks casually, taking on as much of a nonchalant air as he can despite being upset that once again his big brother intends to ruin his life.

“Fort Reichenbach, really? Surely that’s beneath even your low standards, Sherlock.” Though stated flatly Sherlock detects the strained tones of anger underneath.

“I count it as as a victory then, that it bothers you so much.” He grins, tipping his nose in the air,  turning away from the older man to play with the cuffs of his white button-down shirt in the mirror.

“I’m serious.” The auburn hair man shouts. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for in a place like that?” Sherlock shrugs his shoulders. “That’s it then, isn’t it.” Mycroft growls. “This is your way of trying to get back at me for some presumed infraction on my part hmm? If you want to be a child about it, fine. I'll blink, first. Give in to your petty whims.” He sniffs. “Here's what I propose, l will call off all surveillance of you for an entire week. That means an entire week where you can run around with your precious Scotland Yard and play detective to your heart's content without any interference by me or any of my team. What do you say?"

Sherlock bites his bottom lip, considering. If true, it’s an incredible boon. Sherlock has never gone a day since he was 12 without feeling Mycroft's presence watching him in one way or another.

"And what about anyone who I want to work with, as a partner? I want assurances you aren't going to interrogate them and --"

"I told you, Sherlock," Mycroft cuts in. "I can offer you a number of far better trained men who will not only be able to assist your satisfactory level but can protect you --" Sherlock shoots him a glare. "If need be that is." Mycroft ends concessionarily."

"You mean spies," Sherlock cries back. "Absolutely not. I need someone not on your dime who won't report back anything about what I do."

Mycroft scoffs. "No one will work with you and your bratty attitude longer than a day anyway."

"That's because you scare them off with your ridiculous tactics -"

"Fine!" Mycroft shouts back with finality matched by hitting the tip of his umbrella onto the floor. "Have it your way then. I promise not to get involved with anyone you work with. I'll just have to trust you have at least an iota of self preservation not to select some pawing ape..." He stops himself, head cocked. "What?"

The brunette stares wide-eyed, lips parted. He can't believe it. Mycroft Holmes, the most overprotective big-brother on the planet, is actually going to go through with it. The revelation is as shock inducing as it is miraculous.

Having sensed he might have given away too much, Mycroft steps closer and extends his hand for Sherlock to shake on the deal, eyeing his baby brother warily. When Sherlock merely gives his curly head a simple shake, Mycroft’s face darkens to one of cold fury.

"Sherlock you cannot go through with this...this ridiculous enterprise."

"I am doing this,” Sherlock replies haughtily, and then remembering there are other ways to play his brother, “I _have_ to do this, Mycroft," he  pleads. "The case is far too interesting. A ten at least..."

"Oh, a case, a case. Always a case." Mycroft rolls his eyes, his voice beginning to take a hysterical edge to it. "Sherlock, being in close proximity with a single unvetted person especially a man is dangerous enough but you want to put yourself in the heart of the lion's den. I don't have to remind you of the consequences should you make the _slightes_ t mistake” he hisses.

Sherlock swallows, a touch of color rising to his pale cheeks. "I take -- all necessary precautions. Always. And I know how to fight…”

“I _won’t_ be able to protect you. My access is extremely limited in those facilities.”

"Oh shut up!" Sherlock screams. "You'd rather lock me away in a tower than even let me walk down the street alone. Not all men are ... sex crazed maniacs!"

Sherlock stomps his foot. “I _am_ going and you will not be able to stop me.”

“I see.” Mycroft smiles and Sherlock knows he’s messed up. “Well, in that case I won’t keep you any longer.” He turns around and walks to the door. He opens it and says before walking out.

“You know, baby _brother,_ on that word his voice is a thick mix of disappointment -  a familiar sound to Sherlock’s ears - and disgust - an entirely new tone Sherlock had never heard come from Mycroft before. “If I didn’t know any better I would think you’re just pretending to be asexual.” Sherlock swallows and seeing as he finally said something to affect the brunette, Mycroft continues in a sneer, overtly giving Sherlock’s tightly wrapped body a once over. “Oh, and you might want to change you outfit. Just look at yourself. Traipsing around London like a tarty little harlot is one thing but given where you’re going perhaps you should be more careful to not to dress quite so whorish, mmm?” With that the door slams closed, the sound of Mycroft’s words hanging like a thick fog in the air.

 

 

 

Sherlock stands trembling for at least two minutes staring at nothing, forgetting how to breath until finally his legs find themselves. He immediately rushes over to his suitcase. Opening it quickly he looks to double check. They’re there. The vials of his precious drugs. Clearly marked across the labels are names of various opioids like heroin, and stimulants, like cocaine. Sherlock quickly grabs a needle and gives himself a small injection,nevermind that it’s his second of the day. He practices his vocal exercises for lowering his voice, he forces it even lower, hurting his vocal cords and not caring. Right after that he reaches for a cigarette, which has natural voice deepening properties as well.

  
He will _not_ let Mycroft get to him.


End file.
